


The Last Goodbye

by Maegykie



Series: In Half-Light and Shadows [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family, Harry Potter - Freeform, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maegykie/pseuds/Maegykie
Summary: Severus has some unfinished business, he needs to make sure Hermione is going to be OK one last time... Can be read as a sequel to In Half Light and Shadows and The Romanian Puzzle Box or as a HG/SS standalone COMPLETE ONESHOT.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Series: In Half-Light and Shadows [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158059
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	The Last Goodbye

Hermione watched the shadows stretch across the lawn, the half-light of dusk casting the grim back-alleys of Cokeworth in an incongruent golden glow that made her think of memories seen, dream-like, through a Pensieve. She couldn’t comprehend how a scene could be so joyful and yet so mournful. A deep nostalgia swept over her, warming her from within.

‘You’re back,’ she said at length, feeling Severus’s presence behind her as he silently entered the room.

‘Mm,’ he agreed. She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck. ‘For a little while at least.’

‘How long?’

He came closer, slid his arms around her waist from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder; she placed her hands over where his met, fingers intertwined, on her stomach, and leant back into him, feeling safe for the first time in a while. ‘Just for as long as you need me. Until you’re ready. Is that OK?’

She sighed and withdrew from him, finally turning to consider him properly. He looked younger than he had the last time she’d seen him; his hair flecked with slightly less grey, his cheeks a little fuller, and a glint in the depth of those dark eyes that she hadn’t seen in while. She was reminded of the Severus she had met all those years ago in a small Transylvanian pub. He looked the way she wanted to remember him. It made her heart beat a little faster but she knew she mustn’t get complacent. He was looking at her intently, she realised, wearing an expression of concern.

‘Erin is rushing me,’ she said, chewing her bottom lip and looking back out of the window.

‘Well, that sounds about right for Erin,’ Severus replied with a deep chortle. ‘Do you want me to have a word with her?’

Hermione looked at him again and finally smiled. ‘Best not,’ she said, swatting his arm as she moved past him to where a pile of books and magazines lay on the floor. ‘To keep or not to keep?’ she asked, gesturing at what he realised were his old potions journals.

‘Isaac might find some of them useful. There’s a fair few articles on medicinal potions. Might be quite dated now though, I suppose. That one, and that one,’ he said, pointing a few out to her. She put them to one side and began to sort through the rest as Severus moved over to the window.

‘You did a real number on the flower bed,’ Severus observed, looking out, down at the garden. The flower bed was a mess of upturned soil and beheaded Snowdonia Hawkweed plants.

‘Well, I was very angry with you. You had some real audacity just upping and leaving us like that,’ she said simply, without looking up as she flicked through a thick tome. She buried her nose into it and inhaled deeply.

‘You love the smell of books,’ he commented.

‘Perhaps not so much anymore,’ she said, closing the covers gently and placing it, alongside a few others, in a box marked ‘donations.’ ‘It reminds me too much of you,’ she continued and there was a bitter edge to her tone, resentful almost. He didn’t respond. ‘I’m _still_ very angry with you, now I come to think of it,’ she concluded.

He smiled and nodded slowly, moving across the room, taking her hand and pulling her into a standing position before embracing her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, over and over as she began to sob, her fingers digging into his back.

‘Mum?’ a voice called from downstairs and Severus released Hermione quite suddenly and stepped back from her. ‘Oh, there you – oh, Mum… what’s wrong?’

Erin entered the room and it crossed Severus’s mind that it would likely be the last time she ever did. He recalled the first time he had met her, that had been in this room too. It felt simultaneously like yesterday, and hundred years ago. A tiny dot of a thing in an oversized baby grow and already a head of those wild Granger curls. But more than anything he remembered the ache in his heart as it had grown with adoration.

Severus liked to say Erin got ‘no better for keeping,’ which was something his own mother had often said about him; it meant that no matter what Hermione or he said or did, Erin would do her own thing, even if she’d asked for the advice in the first place. She had made rather a name for herself as a journalist, sticking to her word that she would focus on real stories, about real people, told from their point of view. When Severus had finally, after many years of her harassing him, consented to an interview about his life during The War, she had won various awards and been propelled journalistic stardom. Being a minor celebrity, albeit within very select circles, had always suited Erin more than it had either of her parents. She had quite the social life down in London and had never been interested in marriage or children. There were mentions, of course, every now and again, of some boyfriend or another, but it never transpired into much.

‘It’s your father,’ Hermione said, half-sobbing, half-laughing, ‘upsetting me!’

‘Right,’ Erin replied, scowling in Severus’s general direction before looking back, concernedly, at her mother.

Severus shook his head. ‘You’re alright blaming me when I can’t defend myself,’ he said.

‘I’m fine now,’ Hermione reassured their daughter. ‘Really.’

‘Nate’s gone to fetch some fish and chips for supper,’ Erin advised. ‘The dining furniture is all packed away but we’ve arranged some boxes to sit on. Do you want me to help you with these books until he gets back?’

‘No, no. Thank you, darling,’ Hermione said, reaching up to stroke Erin’s cheek. ‘I appreciate you being here.’

‘It’s OK, Mum,’ she said, smiling sympathetically.

There were more footsteps coming up the stairs and Isaac joined them. Isaac had, in the end, grown taller than Severus and was more impressive in his build. Long shifts at St. Mungo’s kept him fit and as he’d gotten older he’d grown more accustomed to himself, comfortable in who he was, and a subtle, understated confidence now ebbed from him. It was a good quality in a Healer and Isaac was a good Healer.

‘That moustache is ridiculous!’ Severus said. Isaac’s gaze swept over his father but he chose to ignore him.

‘I think it looks very dignified,’ Hermione replied.

‘What?’ Isaac asked.

‘Your moustache, darling, it looks very dignified. You look like a proper old-fashioned Healer with it,’ Hermione said.

‘Didn’t know you had it in you to grow facial hair,’ Erin interjected, smirking, ‘wasn’t sure puberty had kicked in yet.’

Isaac scowled at her and jabbed his elbow into her ribs. They were suddenly teenagers again, bickering over who had spent too much time in the bathroom, whose turn it was to pick what they were watching on TV, or who had eaten the last Jaffa Cake or decent flavoured packet of crisps. They’d been the same since they were babies; the closest of allies and the worst of enemies, and as children there were times they could be absolutely vile to one another but if anyone else ever dared try anything like that, they’d defend one another to the hilt. Not for the first time, as Severus watched them bicker, he wondered what he had done to deserve them, could hardly believe his good fortune.

Hermione looked like she was thinking the same thing. A wistful smile had spread across her features, but the sadness that had settled in her eyes was immovable. She shook herself. ‘Come on, out of here,’ she said, pushing the twins gently from the room, ‘leave me in peace to finish this packing. Shout me when the chips are here.’ She waited until Erin and Isaac had disappeared down the stairs, Erin apparently trying to check Isaac’s moustache wasn’t glued on, then she turned back to Severus. ‘Thank you for _them_ ,’ she said, issuing him that sad smile again. ‘The children, all of them. They are the absolute best of you.’

He couldn’t believe her of course, but he nodded because that is what she needed from him.

She looked back down at the pile of potions books and then threw them all, unceremoniously, into the donations box. ‘I can’t keep them around, cluttering up the place and reminding me of you every five minutes. We’ve thrown all your potions equipment from the cellar away too. Hope you don’t mind.’ She sounded matter-of-fact, as opposed to harsh, which was very Hermione of her.

He scoffed. ‘Suppose I’m not using it anymore. Get rid of every last trace of me for all I care.’

He had been joking, but she looked up at him sharply, something like hurt burning in her eyes. ‘It would be easier if I could,’ she said, with a strange anger. Then she placed her hand over her heart and clutched at her shirt. ‘But there’s a gaping hole right here that I’m going to have to carry around for the rest of my life and I can’t describe to you how much it hurts! I am heartbroken!’ She was practically yelling.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Stop apologising. How can you have anything to be sorry for?’

‘I… don’t know.’

Hermione sniffed and busied herself with more packing. ‘Is _she_ there, where you’ve gone?’ she asked, badly feigning nonchalance. It wasn’t difficult to infer who she might be talking about.

‘Don’t do that.’

‘Well, is she?’

‘No,’ he said, sincerely. ‘No one is there, it’s nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ she looked aghast at the thought, ‘that sounds lonely.’

He shook his head and smiled. ‘It is nothing and everything that ever was all at the same time and I can see you, see you all, whenever I want.’

‘Like now?’ she said, seeming to brighten.

‘Sometimes, maybe, like this, if you need me to, but you’ll need me to less and less, and that’s OK. You’ll know I’m there in smaller ways, and that’s what’s important.’ He nodded to that thick potions books she’d first put in the donations box. She took it out and smelled the pages again.

‘Like when I smell you on the pages of an old book.’

‘Precisely.’

She hugged the book close to her chest for a moment and then leant up to kiss him. He savoured her taste before she pulled away again and placed the book in the box that said ‘little library.’ The new house, a two bedroom cottage in London’s commuter belt, not too far from Isaac, his wife, and their two children, had space for Hermione’s books to be on show. It was space that Spinner’s End, so full of children, laughter, and love, had never had, and it was the one thing she was looking forward to about finally moving on from here. Isaac had taken a little while to settle down, his shyness often getting in the way of his relationships, and his two boys were still toddlers. Hermione was pleased that being closer would give her more opportunities to babysit. Perhaps, she pondered, that was something else to look forward to at the new house, as well as the little library. Perhaps, just perhaps, it wouldn’t be so bad.

They heard the front door open downstairs and Nate coming through it. ‘Chips!’ he shouted to the whole house.

‘Coming?’ Hermione said, holding out her hand to Severus. ‘I did always like us to eat as a family when we could.’

He took her hand and followed her downstairs to the kitchen. Everything apart from a pot of salt and a bottle of vinegar had been packed into boxes. Hermione unwrapped the newspaper from the polystyrene box that homed her supper.

‘Ooh, that smells so good. Why hasn’t he brought me any,’ Severus said, trying to pinch one of her chips. She slapped his hand away and doused them in vinegar. ‘Agh, ruined!’ he said, folding his arms and faux-sulking.

Erin, Isaac, and Nate had taken their food and moved into the living room. The twins were sat on upturned boxes, and Nate was sat, legs crossed, beside the fireplace, his chip butty still half wrapped in paper on his lap. Hermione joined the twins on one of the boxes and Severus loitered by the door, taking in the scene but, as he had so often felt, not really a part of it.

‘I think we’re pretty much done,’ Nate said, between large mouthfuls of food. ‘Once we’ve got these last few boxes across through the Floo, and the ones from upstairs.’

Nate was the perfect balance of the twins, not quite so free-spirited as Erin, not quite so uptight as Isaac. He was intelligent in the way of people who have to work hard for it, but this had nurtured in him a conscientiousness that made him deeply caring. He had married his teenage sweetheart and they’d had children at Hogwarts before they were in their mid-thirties, so now, at forty-four, he had the freedom to explore his other interests; at the moment, the conservation of magical ecosystems, which he had lobbied the new Minister for Magic to prioritise in the manifesto that had won her the recent election.

‘It doesn’t look like much when it’s all packed into boxes,’ Hermione mused. The children all looked between themselves, apparently anticipating some upset. ‘A whole life, almost one hundred years, and what does it amount to?’

‘It’s not about _things_ though, is it?’ Isaac reminded her.

‘Well said,’ Severus said from the doorway.

Hermione looked over at him. ‘I’m glad you’ve finally realised that,’ she said, pointedly. She turned back to the children who continued to watch her worriedly. ‘No, it’s about the things we do, not the things we have, and we did… _remarkable_ things.’

‘It’s strange,’ Erin pondered, ‘to think of another family living here. But at the same time, it’s nice.’

‘I only hope they’ll be as happy as we were,’ Hermione agreed.

‘And we were,’ Severus said, softly. He could feel that it was almost time to go and suddenly he didn’t want to. He’d been so tired before, that slipping away had felt easy, but now he felt a frantic desire to stay. He began to lament all the things he was going to miss out on. The children’s careers, what the grandchildren would do with their lives, quiet evenings spent just he and Hermione, reminiscing on a life well lived.

‘We were,’ Isaac said and he held up his can of Irn Bru. ‘To dad,’ he said, by way of a toast, and the rest of them lifted their cans of pop too, Severus pretending to as he didn’t have a drink.

‘To dad,’ the Erin and Nate chorused and, ‘to Severus,’ Hermione said.

‘To me,’ said Severus, with a smug smirk. Hermione looked up at him and couldn’t help but reciprocate the smile.

They finished up their food and one by one transported the remaining boxes through the Floo to the new house.

‘I’ve said my goodbyes,’ Erin said, as the five of them stood in the empty living room an hour later. ‘I can’t do it again, I’ll just cry. I’ll see you at the new house, get you settled in before I go home,’ she said to Hermione, hugging her briefly and moving off through the Floo.

‘I’m going to get home now, Mum,’ Isaac said. ‘You sure you’ll be alright?’

‘Yes, thank you. I’ll see you soon. Give my love to the boys.’

‘Will do. And love you too.’

She nodded. ‘Love you too.’

He followed Erin into the green flames and he, too, disappeared.

‘Ready?’ Nate asked, approaching the fireplace himself and turning to Hermione. ‘We can go together.’

‘You know your father once told me,’ she said, ignoring Nate’s outstretched hand, ‘that he worried about being forgotten.’

Nate laughed, ‘how could he be forgotten, his story is in literal history books!’

‘That’s what I said when he told me,’ Hermione remembered fondly, ‘but that’s not what he meant. He wanted people to remember the real him. We have to do that for him now. There’s only us that can do that.’

‘We will, Mum,’ Nate gently reassured her, ever the voice of reason. ‘Coming then?’

‘No, no. You go ahead. I just want one last look around the place,’ she replied. Nate looked at her sceptically. ‘I just want to be…’ she trailed off, looking at Severus. ‘ _Alone_ here for a little while.’

‘If you’re sure, but I’m coming back for you if you’re not with us in half an hour,’ Nate demanded.

Hermione smiled, hearing the same parental-like concern in his voice she would once have had for him. How time rolled by and how things altered. ‘I’ll see you shortly,’ she assured him and watched as he disappeared into the flames.

Severus stepped out from where he had been skulking in the hallway, waiting for the children to say their goodbyes so that he could have Hermione to himself again. He closed the distance between then and pulled her close. He wondered what would happen if he just refused to let go.

‘Have I finally gone mad, Severus?’ she asked, weepily.

‘No,’ he said, stroking her hair, itself greying at the roots. ‘You _know_ I’m not really here.’

She looked up at him through those sad, hazel eyes, and nodded. ‘That’s the power of optimism,’ she said.

He took in her soft features one last time, her little nose, freckled cheeks, that wild, wild hair.

He wiped the silent tears that spilled down her face, pausing with his forefinger and thumb rested on her chin and pulling her into a final kiss.

‘I’ll be waiting,’ he said at length, ‘when you’re ready, you come to me, but not for as long as you like. Take your time, OK?’

‘You’ll be OK without me for a little while?’

He nodded, stifling his own tears now. ‘I’ll be able to enjoy some peace and quiet for a change, without your incessant questions.’

She smiled and wiped her face on the sleeve of her bobbly jumper. ‘The day you died, I tried one last time to get you to play our little game. Perhaps it was a little unfair of me, you were so weak, you didn’t even seem to know I was there-’

‘- I knew.’

‘You didn’t answer, when I asked what it was you most grateful for?’ she said, beaming at him.

Momentarily, he feigned annoyance and then he inhaled deeply. ‘You,’ he breathed, ‘the thing I was most grateful for in my _whole life_ was you.’

She sobbed, thankful to hear that from him one more time. ‘I love you so much,’ she said and he knew that those words could sustain him until it came time for her to join him.

She swam, for what seemed an eternity, in ebony eyes, before allowing her gaze to drift over him in his entirety. She wanted to absorb every part of him, from the stiff way he held himself to the musky smell of his old jumper to the silky feel of his hair on her fingers.

He spoke again, disturbing her from her reverie: ‘Come now, no more tears,’ he said, sternly. ‘It’s time.’

‘No! A little longer.’ She reached out and grabbed his arm.

He shook his head and she knew he was right. She didn’t feel ready, at least not in the way she’d thought she would, but a new resolve had ignited in her. She would be OK. She approached the fire and picked up a handful of Floo Powder, which she tossed into the flames, and when she turned back to the room, it was to find it empty.


End file.
